Bakery Girl
by NeonRebellion
Summary: Naomi's hurt, frozen, alone. The gang all go their separate ways after Freddie's funeral and Naomi runs away from it all. She moves to London to escape, and meets Emily, who's fiery spirit might be the only thing that can help Naomi heal.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay! So, this is my first attempt type deal. I've been amazingly inspired by everyone on FanFiction, the authors here, and everyone who reads these stories, are a force to be reckoned with. So I hope you enjoy, and I wont complain if you drop me a review, because I plan on making this one hell of a ride, and I might need a little encouragement every once in a while.** **;)  
>Prepare for lots of Naomily goodness, and I know I said they all go their separate ways, but everyone else from gen 2 will show up at some point too, along with a few surprises.<br>I don't own Skins, but it owns my heart.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong> -

It was late August, the summer after our last year at Roundview College. The air was warmer than I had ever remembered it being at this time of year, the usual London rain giving way to long humid days and when it did rain, mostly at night, it did little to quell the sticky heat. My loose fitting shirts often stuck to my sweaty back when I took the train home from work in the evenings, no thanks to the swarming mass of bodies packed into the cars. Everyone became more irritable, especially on the train, and more often than not lately I'd ended up getting off early to avoid the hostile atmosphere. It was like the weather was trying to make up for the fact that our last year of college had gone so fucking tits up though, or that's how it seemed. I preferred the rain really. I felt like I hadn't seen rain in years, and all I wanted was for it to downpour and wash everything that'd happened away, make me a new, clean slate.

It feels strange being out in the real world, not worrying about coursework or curfews (not that we ever cared that we had those) or which club we'd be getting fucked up in Friday nights. The last weeks of college had been, well, eventful. We were all dealing with Freddie's murder; Cook had gotten off rather lightly considering he'd beaten Foster to a bloody pulp. Claiming it was self defense did him a world of good, even with his record of violent tendencies. Anthea had taken Effie to Cardiff to stay with Tony for a while, thinking it would somehow make her forget it all happened. She tried her best, but we all knew that would never be the answer for Effy. Effy'd lost everything, running away wasn't what she needed. She needed her friends, her support. Panda and Thomas were at Harvard. Effy was really the only one I still kept in contact with, and we were both our own special brands of messed up.

I was here, in London. I left a week after Freddie's funeral; I couldn't stand being there without the rest of our group to deal with it on my own. I haven't been back, even to visit my mum, I know she worries about me and I feel bad for leaving just as we were beginning to finally be a family again, she did kick out all of our lodgers and found us a new flat, more fitting for us. She calls me every day though, and she's been seeing Kieran, as strange as that's always been, and she's happy, so I can't complain. He's good for her. She's doing well; she doesn't need a moody depressed daughter around bringing her down. She understands that I had to leave; she always knows what I need before I know it. As much as I hate to admit it, she knows me better than anyone.

_Sometimes you just have to leave_, I'd reason with myself when I'd start to feel guilty. I knew running away would fix nothing, but here I was on the train going home from work in a completely different city, running away. I had picked up a journalism job with one of the local London papers, it was nothing near as exciting as the social politics classes that I had planned on attending would have been, if things had turned out differently. I had been accepted to Goldsmith, but I knew I wouldn't have been up to it after everything, and I knew I would be able to get in next year, so I decided a year off would do me some good. I had always been so worried about grades and education, I worked my ass off to get my A-Levels, and even at my lowest point, drugged up and withdrawn into myself I'd managed to scrape by and get top grades. Now after everything, after seeing the mini solar system of people I'd found to gravitate with fall to pieces and drift apart, it didn't seem so important anymore. I was here, alive, drifting, what more did I need?

The train this afternoon was full and bustling with people, some straight backed and wearing crisp suites, and some with dirt on their cheeks carrying old guitars and begging for change. I liked to watch them; it gave my mind something other than the constant pity party in my brain to focus on. I thrived off of observing them, something I clearly picked up from the all-seeing Effy. I often imagined what they would do when they got off the train, whether they had a family to go happily home to, or a sick old parent to take care of, or if they were going home alone every night, like me.

The train came to a slow stop and I got up, welcoming the burst of fresh air when the doors opened. I slid between the tired occupants of the station and made my way onto the wet streets of London. I smiled, it was finally raining. Just a light drizzle, but the clouds were dark and ominous now, and I could smell a storm coming. My shoes hit the slick pavement and I made my way to the old bakery that I frequented a few blocks away. It was starting to cool down, the rain slowly soaking through to my skin and I thought a cup of hot tea might warm me up. Silly I know, complaining about the heat and then seeking it when it rains again. I think it's just the way people react to certain weather; maybe it's a science thing.

The old man that owned and ran the bakery knew me by name now and had my order ready when I walked in. Chai tea and a blueberry muffin. I inhaled the scent of fresh bread and picked out a few fresh made sandwiches for dinner, then paid the man with a smile and a wink. He and his wife lived above the shop, and from the few conversations I'd had with him on the days when I was the only customer to come into the place for hours, I'd heard quite a few fascinating stories. He'd met his wife when he was seventeen, traveling from London, where he was born, to Spain, France, Italy, Greece. He blew into a small fishing village on the edge of Athens one day and was wandering the pier when he saw her.

"There she was," He'd say, his old eyes sparkling at the memory, "sitting on her father's fishing boat, soaking up the sun like only the Greek can. I knew nothing about her, but I fell in love in that moment." He laughed then, "I went back to sit on the rocks overlooking the boats for weeks, it was the longest I'd stayed in one place in months. She noticed me after a while and we would waste the entire day talking, she taught me about Athens, her family, her culture. She taught me Greek. I had to work on her father's boat for nearly 6 months before he agreed to let me take her out once." I laughed with him. Love like that doesn't happen anymore.

He liked my company as much as I liked his I think. He never asked more about me than I'd offer up myself, and I was thankful for it. We were both quiet, he'd tend to the shop and I'd sit and read or work on an article, or just watch the people passing the windows. We were comrades, we both new loss. They'd lost their only child when he was young, I lost one of my best mates. He'd only mentioned it once; the only time I'd seen his eyes look so sad. I never pushed though, and I think I gave him back a bit of what he lost. Someone to fret over and take care of. Not that I'd let anyone know I needed taking care of. I was a stone fortress, unbreakable.

Normally I would bring my food home and eat there, with my loyal feline wrapped around my feet, a stray that I took in on a particularly cold night a few weeks ago. She like eating leftover crumbs and climbed up into my lap whenever I sat down to write an article, but it had started raining harder as soon as I turned to leave the cozy shop and it was warm here. I couldn't bring myself to step out into the storm quite yet. So I strode over to my usual place by the front window and sunk into the large leather arm chair, setting my food down on the low table beside it and let my mind wander as I sipped my tea. The sound of the rain outside was soothing and soon I was pleasantly relaxed.

I heard every order that that the old man took, and how kindly he spoke to the patrons who came in. He joked with the regulars, and was polite and patient, even when a rowdy group of teenagers came through and left a mess in their wake. I liked that about him. He didn't care who you were, he was nice to everyone. I wished I could be like that when I'd look at him sometimes, but then I'd always convince myself that caring too much never ends well. I moved to clean up after them, but he shooed me back to my leather covered haven and happily cleaned it up himself. When she arrived though, I was drawn out of my daydreaming and had to drag my eyes from the rain and see who the unfamiliar husky voice belonged to.

"May I have a coffee, black, and a croissant please?" Her voice was just the right amount of husk, and it dripped with the perfect amounts of confidence and innocence. I'd never heard anything like it.

She turned and leaned on the counter while the old man went to get her order, and we locked eyes for a moment. She was small, 5"2 tops, absolutely adorable. Dark skinny jeans covered legs that went on for miles despite her small figure, and a tight shirt fit perfectly to a body that made my head spin. I felt my lips curl into a smile as her chocolaty brown eyes bore into me. There was a fiery mischief that danced in them that I couldn't help but find extremely enticing. She smiled back and looked away quickly, before thanking the old man and sitting at a table nearer to the door. The wind whipped her crimson hair around her porcelain face and into her eyes every time someone came into the shop, and I couldn't stop a chuckle from escaping my lips when she became increasingly irritated by it.

She heard my laughter and glared into her coffee mug, before shooting me a look as if to say _well are you just going to sit there and laugh at me, or are you going to do something to fix this?_ I suddenly felt a blush make its way to my cheeks and an unfamiliar nervousness dance around in my stomach, but manage to shrug it off and point to the chair opposite my own. I frowned at myself, I hadn't even noticed another person like this since coming here, I'd observed people, but never felt anything like this. And I've never been one to initiate any sort of contact with people, let alone laugh at them and then offer them a seat next to me in my favourite place, but something made me want to talk to the petite redhead. I shook my head at my strange behaviour.

She set her mug down next to mine and sat, her shoulders relaxing as she sunk into the chair that made her seem even smaller than she was. We sat in silence for a while, and more than once I found myself looking at her over the rim of my cup, catching her eye and then a blink later, staring back out towards the rain. Something about her made my eyes unconsciously gravitate towards her, like they wanted to soak in the colour of her hair or catch one last look into her eyes, like they were afraid she'd disappear any second. I wanted to say something, I didn't want her to finish her coffee and disappear forever. I couldn't seem to find my voice though, and seemed to forget to breathe when our eyes met. After the third time they did she rolled her eyes and spoke,

"I'm Emily." I looked past the cup I was half hiding behind to find her leaning forward in her oversized chair, looking at me intently her hand outstretched. Her gaze made my stomach flutter, and it was making me more nervous than I already was. What made it worse was that she'd only said two words to me and already I never wanted her to stop talking. I hadn't thought about Freddie or Effy or my mum once since she walked in, I felt a strange, welcome calm accompanied by an even stranger excitement with her near me. My heart felt like it was on speed, pounding uneven rhythms against my ribcage. I chastised myself mentally. _Come on Campbell, stop being stupid and say hello_.

"Um.. Hi, I'm, uhh, I'm Naomi." I managed to stutter. I shook her hand and shivered as our fingers brushed when she pulled away, sending sparks up my arm. I puffed out a frustrated breath and studied the bottom of my now empty mug.

She let out a low, throaty laugh at my clear inability to form any kind of coherent thought, but when I looked back up at her, her lips were forming into a beautiful smile, and her eyes glimmered mischievously, and I wasn't sure anyone had ever looked at me like that in my entire life. If I wasn't having trouble forming words before, I sure as hell was now.

"Nice to meet you Naomi, can I get you another tea?" She got up before I could answer and made her way back to the counter. The old man caught my eye as she did, and shot me a wink and a knowing smirk. He knew something.

She returned a few minutes later, handed me my fresh tea and smiled that smile again before sitting down and looking out the window. It was then I knew I was a goner.

I could definitely get use to a smile like that.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh gosh, so there it is. What did you guys think, let me know? <strong>I really hope you guys like this so far, I know it's just the boring intro chapter, but I promise it's all going places I know you'll love.<strong> Yup, it's going there. ;) I should be updating on a semi-normal basis. Because I love you guys. And I love Naomily.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so first, I'd like to say holy crap. I never expected this to get such a reaction, almost 300 views in the first 24 hours after I posted this. Second, a HUGE thanks for the wonderfully sweet reviews. And all the alert adds and favourites and just, everything. You guys are amazing; I'd never have the guts to do this without all of your support. **

**I'm not too sure what I think of this chapter, I'm a bit of a perfectionist, and it'll probably be changed/ added to and I will let you know if that happens of course, but it's been a week and a half and I needed to just get it done and stop picking at it. I wanted to see their first encounter through both of their eyes, because it's such a big moment for them both, and I wont be overlapping chapters like this again, but this was special. Anyway! Enjoy!**

**I don't own Skins, but it's pretty much taken over my life, and I'm okay with that.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>-

"Sodding rain!" I held the newspaper over my head and looked around, frantically trying to find something to hide under to keep from getting absolutely soaked by the sudden downpour. I scanned the buildings across the street, tall apartment complexes, a dress shop, a few vintage clothing stores that would make Katie cringe. I smirked to myself. _I might have to go pick up something grungy looking just to bother her_.

Then my eyes fell on the bakery, it was small and wedged between one of the clothing stores and an apartment building, and the light from inside made it almost glow in the dark of the cloudy day. I could see into the front window, it was nearly empty. _Perfect, _I thought. I loved the rain, I always had, and would often sneak up to the roof of our parents house when Katie and I were younger even during the worst storms, just to feel the rain hitting my face, but today it wasn't happening. My day had been shit, and this weather was making it even worse, and the little cafe seemed like a good place to wait out the storm. I needed coffee and something to eat anyway. As if on cue, my stomach growled, so I crossed the street, narrowly avoiding being splashed as some idiot sped through the puddle that was quickly forming along the side of the road. I flipped him off and opened the door to the shop.

As I stepped inside and let the door close behind me, I was instantly hit with the most wonderful smells, fresh bread, coffee mixed with the spicy scents of different teas, and I breathed in as deeply as I could and closed my eyes for a moment to soak in the warm atmosphere. This place was pure bliss. I'd passed by here a few times in the past two months, and regretted not coming in till now. I felt all my stress melt away in a second, and didn't mind then that it was pouring rain out, the harsh weather just made this place infinitely more welcoming.

I walked up to the counter and scanned over the menu that hung above it, a large blackboard covered in different colours of chalk that divided up the menu, pictures of a lobster and a slice of cheese in opposite corners. I giggled at the choice of images, deciding that I'd have to come back, multiple times, because everything looked so good and there was such a huge selection for it being such a small shop. My stomach decided it couldn't possibly wait any longer without risk of death._ Alright, alright I'm going_, I thought, and I ordered one of the giant croissants that sat in the display, and a coffee.

I turned around to get a better look at the front of the shop, and to decide which giant leather chair I wanted to sink into the most. They all looked so wonderfully comfortable, and my eyes flitted over the table tops, some decorated with broken glass with swirling designs under a layer of resin, others made of dark wood and metal. I liked that they were mismatched and each one stood out individually; they each had something distinctly different and unique about them. I paid attention to the metal work around their edges; I knew how hot the metal had to be to get it to bend a shape the way it was, I knew how much force it took to bend it around itself.

I rubbed my thumb over the rough calluses on the tips of my fingers and palm of the hand that wasn't holding my bag, remembering how terrible my day had been and why. I'd been working feverishly every day for the past two months putting on a show at a local gallery. I was the featured artist, something I'd never imagine being. I dabbled in painting, not that I would ever let the public get their hands on those works, but I worked with metal primarily; I was making a huge installation that I was hoping would garner a little attention from a few of the larger galleries around and I'd finally get my name out there. Today had been filled with nothing but setbacks.

I huffed and let my eyes drift towards the far corner of the front window. My breath hitched as my eyes fell on the only other person in the shop besides myself and the old man that'd taken my order. She was looking straight at me and I was glad I was holding onto the counter then, as my knees went weak and I was staring into the most startlingly blue eyes I'd ever seen. It was the kind of blue that only came when there wasn't a cloud in the sky, the blue at the very center of the eye of a hurricane, and with a look I felt as if one was stirring in beneath my ribs. I was mesmerised, I couldn't look away. Her blonde hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders, and her lips curled into a shy smile and my heart fluttered wildly in my chest.

"Here you go dear," The old man's voice snapped me out of the trance I was in and I turned to find him looking between me and the blond with an expression that I could only describe as meddlesome. I fished around in my bag for the right change and paid, and went to sit in the other corner of the shop.

My feet had other plans though and I felt myself walking towards where she was sitting. It was as if my legs refused to make contact with my brain, like this girl had lassoed me and was pulling me in without my permission. I could smell her perfume, or shampoo, or _her_ over everything else the closer I got, and it was intoxicating. She smelled of green apples and the way the air smells when you're in the middle of nowhere on a cold day. I decided I never wanted to smell another scent for the rest of my life. She was drawing me in and probably had no idea.

But I knew that if I sat near her I might say or do something so totally Emily that I might be forced to never come back. I had a bit of a reputation for being very forward when in the presence of a beautiful girl, and she was not someone I wanted to scare away. I wanted to come back, I liked it here. And if she was here now, then she might come here often, and if I got to see her again, well, I wouldn't complain. I wouldn't mind watching her from afar if it meant I got to see that adorable smile grace her lips on occasion, even if I'd never be the cause if it.

_What the hell Emily, you can't keep doing this_, I thought, trying to over ride the urge to walk right up to her and kiss her, and then introduce myself. _You just got out of a relationship, not that you could really call it that. You can't just make every girl you meet fall for you because you can't stand to be alone. You don't even know who she is; she could be straight, she probably is, she could be a serial killer for all you know…_Who was I kidding; I was no stranger to being fucked against the wall of a dingy night club by someone I'd met ten minutes before. Especially now.

I forced myself to stop, both my rambling brain and my legs that were being drawn towards the beautiful girl in front of me. It was an act that seemed to take all the strength that I could muster, and sat at the first table I passed as soon as I regained some control over my feet.

I flopped down into the leather chair and looked up when I did to find the girl looking out the window. _Great Emily, way to freak out when she's not even looking at you, what happened to the charmer that doesn't give a fuck what anyone thinks, what're you doing?_ I thought. _She's just a girl_. I studied her again. A slight frown crossed her features, and she chewed on her bottom lip and twirled a straw around her fingers, clearly deep in thought. She wore a pair of beat up old Vans, faded jeans, and a white graphic tee that hung off her in a most appealing way, and I couldn't help but imagine what she would look like with none of it on.

I didn't have long to dwell on the thought before I realized that this wasn't the most relaxing place I could've chosen to sit. People started coming in more often, and the cold wind from outside whipped around me every time the door opened. Before long I was silently cursing them for disturbing the warm, calm little bubble that I'd let envelope me. I slammed my coffee mug down a little harder than was probably necessary and swore under my breath when a particularly strong gust of wind sent my hair into my eyes and strands of it stuck to my lips. I heard a soft laugh and my eyes snapped toward the sound. It was the girl. _Fine_, I thought. _If you want to sit there and look perfect and unattainable and then laugh at me, you can do something about this damn wind._ I shot her a look to say as much, and to my surprise she pointed towards one of the other leather chairs at her table, offering me an escape from the gusts of air coming from the door.

I smirked to myself as I got up and made my way to her. Score one for the mighty Emily. My coffee cup was warm in my hand, as I got closer to her I could feel warmth spread through my body, like when you sit in front of a fire and it soaks into your skin, and the smoke burns your eyes but you can't bear to move, because it's so delightfully warm. I wasn't sure if it was because I wasn't near the door anymore, or if it was because I was getting closer to the gorgeous blonde, but whatever it was, I wanted to feel more of it. I wondered, as I sank into the chair she'd offered me, if her skin had to be burning to send out that much heat.

When she shook my hand a few moments later, I had to pull away. The most incredible warmth shot through my fingers and up my arm the instant they touched hers, and rocketed into my chest where it settled under my ribs and smouldered. My heart sped up and it felt as though all the doves in the world had been set loose to fly around in my stomach. I reacted the only way I could, grabbing her cup and fleeing, hoping my smile didn't look as nervous as I thought it did as I asked her if she wanted more tea, and made my way back to the counter. The old man did nothing but smile as he went to work behind the counter, and I couldn't help but think he knew exactly what I was feeling.

What was I feeling? The earth moving beneath my feet, the air being sucked out of my lungs every time I made eye contact with the stunning blonde named Naomi, everything felt like it was changing and I didn't understand why, what was this? I needed to know.

* * *

><p>"Egg salad, or ham and cheese?" Naomi held two sandwiches out towards me, and I took a moment to study her han- I mean, to carefully weigh my sandwich options. <em>Stop noticing every little thing about her, brain.<em>

"Well," I started, "I've never been a huge fan of cheese, so eggs it is." I unwrapped my sandwich and took a bite.

She laughed, "Who doesn't like cheese?" I threw my balled up sandwich wrapper at her and she laughed again.

"I don't, that's who"

She threw it back and grinned at me. We'd been sitting together for nearly two hours, talking about books and movies, music, trivial things. I'd made it through two more coffees and was working on my third. I'd moved from the chair across from her, to the one next to her, angling it so it was easier to look into those blazingly blue eyes as we talked. I thought more than once, as she spoke, that I could easily drown in her voice, it dripped with passion, even though she had this shy, nervous quality about her, which I found incredibly cute. She regaled me with stories from her childhood, she talked about politics, which I had no interest in whatsoever, but when she talked about it, it suddenly became the most fascinating subject in the world. And I was genuinely enjoying myself.

I was surprising myself by telling her things I'd never tell a complete stranger. Things about Katie, about my parents, about my pervy little brother. She felt more like an old friend than someone I'd just met, it was easy with her. We were talking about the fact that she was new in town when an idea struck me. I couldn't stand the thought of this night ending yet, so I suggested we take a little adventure.

"So, I know you don't know me, and you've probably got far more interesting things to do, but I know this place like the back of my hand, and you will never get a better tour than mine." I tried to exude an air of nonchalance and indifference to whether she accepted my invitation or not, but a not so tiny voice in the back of my brain was chanting, _Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes. _

"You want to take me on a tour?" She said, biting her bottom lip for the hundredth time since I sat next to her, and smiling. "I'd love that, I really only know the way from my flat to work and back, and this is the only stop in between I've bothered to take."

I beamed. My heart jumped at the thought of spending more time with Naomi. And I had the perfect place to end our tour.

* * *

><p><strong>Yep, there it is, chapter 2, next one's gonna be fun. You know what to do now, hit that review button and tell me what you think! Your feedback means loads to me. <strong>

**Till next time you beautiful, wonderful people. xx**


End file.
